Page 17

“This was sent over by an admirer.” The bartender smiled as he set a glass containing a frozen concoction in front of me.

Who would buy me a drink? “You have the wrong girl.” I pushed it forward.

“Nope. It’s for you.”

I caught the guy’s arm before he could walk farther down the bar.

“I can’t drink it. Might as well take it back.”

No mixing alcohol and pain meds—doctor’s order, and one I wouldn’t disobey. Not that I really needed them much anymore, but I’d taken one before I left the house.

He looked down at my drink and chuckled. “It’s a virgin. Your mystery man demanded it so, and I made it myself.”

My face screwed up as I lifted the drink and took a sip. It was good, but it didn’t answer who sent it.

“Turning down a free drink? You’ve always been too sweet for your own good,” a familiar dull voice said, sliding down on the stool beside me.

My eyes closed, shoulders painfully stiff until I inhaled a breath and let it out. No, this was one guy who’d never see me at anything but my best. He was nothing more than an annoyance. I turned, smiling cheekily at my ex-boyfriend, Mark.

I held the drink to my lips and took another sip, my eyes on him, then set it back down. “Obviously you don’t me know as well as you think you do,” I said with a contrived smile.

He chuckled, shaking his head down at his beer. “You’re right, I probably don’t know you as well as I should, considering our history. But I do know from the look on your face when you sat down that you’d rather be anywhere else.”

“So you decided to buy me a drink?”

“Sorry, that’s not from me, but I’ll buy the next round,” he said, smiling.

My phone vibrated against my leg and I pulled it out, thankful for the distraction, seeing the name I shouldn’t have been expecting: Logan.

I’m in the back. Walk away from him now.

I rolled my eyes, not in the mood to be bossed around, and set my phone beside my drink.

“What do you want, Mark?” I drawled, narrowing my eyes at him.

“Julia told me about the accident. You look pretty good, considering.”

I scoffed, staring down at my drink. I looked anything but good, and we both knew it.

“Was that all you wanted to say?” I asked, unimpressed.

“No.” He sighed. “I saw you come in with Hilary and when she walked away, I figured I’d come say hi.”

“Scared of Hilary, huh?” I snickered.

“The girl hates me.”

“Can you blame her?” I asked, scoffed. Yes, she definitely hated him.

“True. Look, Cassie, I never meant for things to happen the way they did with you. I mean, I loved you—hell, I still do.”

“Don’t!” I held up my hand, an angry frown on my lips.

“Relax, I’m just trying to say…I’m sorry.” His tone softened. “Sorry for sleeping around, sorry for lying to you, and most of all, sorry for not treating you the way you deserved. You were always so good to me. Every time I screwed up, I swore I was going to come clean, but then you’d be waiting for me with your innocent smile full of love. I wanted it, I wanted you, it’s just…I was young, and there were so many girls hanging around.”

My gaze fell from him to my hands clutching my glass. An apology? I hadn’t seen that coming.

My phone lit up with another text and, needing time to process my thoughts, I hit the screen to retrieve it.

U have 30 seconds to walk away.

I shook my head with a scoff, not sure which man was infuriating me the most.

“The day you caught me with Mackenzie woke me up. I felt like shit for hurting you.”

“How many?” I asked after a long pause.

“What?”

I turned on the stool to face him fully. It was time for closure, once and for all.

“How many girls were there during the five years I spent as your lapdog, loving you blindly, planning my future around you?”

“Cassie—”

“How. Many?”

“I don’t know.”

“More than five?” I pressed.

“Look, it’s not important,” he replied, nerves evident in his expression.

“More than ten?” I hissed through clenched teeth.

“We don’t need to rehash—”

“Answer my question, damn it!”

“I don’t know…fifteen, twenty, maybe more,” he confessed, unable to look me in the eye. “I lost track after the first few times.”

“Twenty!?” I gasped as though I’d been slugged in the gut. I shouldn’t have been surprised, but it was a huge number, and meant I probably knew most of the girls.

“Look,” Mark said. He grabbed my hand, and I ripped it away. “I was a dumbass, and I should have told you, but—”

“Why did you even date me, then? What was the point when I obviously didn’t make you happy or satisfy you?”

“I just…I don’t fucking know, all right? It just kept happening, and you were always so sweet, and I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”

My eyes grew wider. I was stunned. “You didn’t want to hurt my feelings?” I all but yelled.

“I know it sounds a little messed up, but—”

“A little!?” I burst out laughing, my head falling back at how ridiculous his reasoning sounded. “Mark, do me a favor and listen to yourself the next time you try to apologize to someone.”

My phone went off and this time it was a call from Logan. Slowly, I hit ‘Accept’ and brought it to my ear.

“What?” I asked gently, my mind reeling, making a mental list of which of my friends in this small town would screw around with Mark.

“I’m going to fucking kill him if you don’t tell him to leave!”

He wasn’t serious. Before I could reply, I heard Caleb’s muffled voice through the receiver.

“Calm down, Hilary’s going now!” he told Logan.

“Get the hell off me!” Logan roared, and then there was a loud scruff against the phone and a few grunts before Caleb’s unaffected, clear voice was there.

“Hey, Cassie, you might want to tell Mark to head out for the night because I have three guys holding Logan back, and I’m not sure how much longer they can manage.”

With a puffed-out sigh, I shook my head. Logan needed to get a grip. I could talk to whomever I wanted.

I hung up and turned back to Mark, noticing Hilary rushing over.

“We need to go,” she demanded, shooting a menacing glare at Mark.

“Everything all right?” he asked, ignoring her and taking a drink of his beer.

My shoulders lifted. “Give us a minute, Hilary.”

An explosive crash in the back startled me. I shot a glance in that direction, then at Hilary.

“I don’t think you have a minute,” she answered, pulling me up from the stool. I grabbed my cell and plunged it into my pocket.

“I appreciate you apologizing, but it’s a little late,” I said to Mark. “You tore my world apart—a fake world that I obviously created in my head, but still my world. I can’t forgive you for that, and I don’t want to. I’m not sad or angry—I’ve just moved on. The fact that I can sit here and listen to you tell me you’ve been with half the girls in our high school and not break down crying proves that. So the next time you see me, don’t come over. I’m not—”